I Know Thorion of the New Asgods and You, Sir, Are No Thorion of the New Asgods

Thorion of the New Asgods #1 was part of the second wave of Amalgam titles, the joint venture between Marvel and DC, where the worlds of the two companies were merged into a single universe. The characters at the forefront were Dark Claw (Batman meets Wolverine), Spider-Boy (Spider-Man meets Superboy), and Super Soldier (Superman meets Captain America) and the titles were full of Easter eggs for the hardcore fans, cramming in as many references as possible. Two lines of 12 comics (six from each publisher) came out over successive years and the quality, honestly, was a bit hit or miss. They were all ‘fun’ for their own reasons and remain somewhat stunning that they exist at all. It wasn’t until the second wave that the specifically Kirby side of things was addressed in Thorion of the New Asgods by Keith Giffen and John Romita, Jr. in what remains one of my favourite single issues. Not so much a cohesive story or even an Easter egg-filled book, it’s practically sparse of all of the characters it could have crammed in. Instead, it seemed to capture the spirit of Kirby’s Thor and Fourth World works, eventually culminating in an ending that brought forth the Celestials of his Eternals. As far as corporate-owned homages go, it the gold standard – and the book that seemed to ensure that, when Thor was relaunched post-Heroes Reborn, that Romita would be the man drawing it.

While it remains large in my mind and is a work that I keep returning to. (I briefly considered structuring my Three Chariots project after it until that seemed too limiting.) This past week, I was thinking about it in relation to two other recent comics and the way that they sought to pay homage to Kirby by combining Thor and the Fourth World, and how each fell short in their own way.

“The Wondrous and the Worthy” from Marvel/DC: Spider-Man/Superman #1 by Jason Aaron, Russell Dauterman, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Caramagna

Of the two works I’m discussing, this is the one that gets closest to Thorion in that it directly uses Marvel and DC characters. This story was one of the selling points for me of Marvel’s half of the Spider-Man/Superman crossover comics, reteaming the main creative team of the Jane Foster Thor for a story where that version of Thor meets Wonder Woman. Except, it’s not exactly that version of the character. This five-page story follows suit from most of the stories in the anthology by depicting a joint world of Marvel and DC where that’s how it’s always been. Also like most of the stories in the anthology, the main point of this story seems to be to talk about how great these characters are (how legendary, how meaningful, how inspirational, etc.) rather than simply telling a good, entertaining story. That’s all this story is. It feels like the middle five pages of a longer story.

Which isn’t inherently bad. Part of the charm of the Amalgam comics was the way that they made an effort to, despite being the supposed first issues of series, to fit into a larger continuity, often predicting the modern habit of relaunching a title under a new first issue when a new creative team comes aboard. Entering en media res isn’t a problem if the substance is there. And it’s not, in this case. To break down the story’s five pages:

1. Red skies above the Daily Planet as narration sets up the idea that Darkseid has conquered Asgard and now has his sights set on Midgard. What looks like Parademons attack Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, and J. Jonah Jameson until lightning strikes and Thor (Jane Foster) begins to fight them. They’re actually Paravenoms, suggesting Symbiote-possessed Parademons.
2. Overwhelmed, a golden thread wraps around Thor’s wrist and yanks her free. As she’s pulled, she tosses Mjolnir, which is deflected by bracelets. It’s revealed that Thor was rescued by Wonder Woman.
3. The two discuss Thor’s real identity as they fight Paravenoms and Thor reveals her self-doubts, asking Wonder Woman to take Mjolnir.
4. Jane tells Diana why she is far more worthy. Wonder Woman responds in kind, revealing that the Lasso of Truth allowed her to see Jane’s true form, dying of cancer and that she is the best choice to wield Mjolnir. A silhouette boot proclaims “LIES!”
5. It’s Darkseid, wielding All-Black. And, then, there’s a big pin-up style image of various Marvel and DC heroes as the narration discusses their eventual win over Darkseid’s forces.

Now, the story being that Jane as Thor lacks self-confidence in this world and is reassured by Wonder Woman is valid. It’s not substantive, it’s pure fluff that seeks to ‘celebrate’ through explicitly holding our hands and going “Hey, kids, look at how great these characters are! Aren’t they something?!?” rather than having them be great. I think what frustrates me so much about this story is not just how fluffy it is and devotes most of its space to discussing how inspirational and ‘worthy’ Jane is (in contrast to the moments where Jane does the same for Diana), it’s how unnecessary a story like this. The comics that Aaron and Dauterman did together starring Jane as Thor did this already – and far more effectively. While I’m rarely one to preach that old CIA gem of “Show, don’t tell,” I also don’t think a story whose entire point is to tell us how great a character is is worth reading, particularly when these same creators already told that story.

The one upside should be Dauterman and Wilson’s art given that even a fluffy story can still look great. If anything, this feels like an excuse for Dauterman to get to draw Thor and Wonder Woman. There’s energy and dynamism in his layouts that recalls his time on Thor. Something about Dauterman’s linework, particularly for faces, has lost me. I’ve noticed it in the covers he’s done for Marvel and the odd interior page I’ve seen over the past few years, where, somehow, his line work has simplified and part of what I loved about it has disappeared. But, that’s just my preference. What bothers me more is that the Paravenoms don’t offer much in the way of visual stimuli for Dauterman to craft a good action sequence. While the page where Diana rescues Thor is laid out wonderfully and has some inventive action, the rest of the story is fairly cramped and uninspired. It’s a lot of posing and reaction shots.

The use of Darkseid as the primary villain makes sense, given that combining Thor with something from DC will invariably lead to the Fourth World. But, again, not much is done with it. Parademons and symbiotes is more something that comes across in the name than anything practical in the story, while Darkseid showing up with All-Black coming out of his hand is, at best, a cool tease, and, at worst, Darkseid with a sword coming out of his hand... whoop-dee-whoop, ya dig? There’s little engagement with the New Gods beyond that – nor with Asgard. Like I’ve been saying, it’s light. It’s fluff. Another disappointment mostly brought upon myself, I suppose.

 

The Ultimates #23 by Deniz Camp, Stipan Morian, and Travis Lanham

In another disappointment, for different reasons, is The Ultimates #23, the second issue of the title devoted to Thor’s attempt to overthrow Loki’s Asgard. Ostensibly a tie-in to Ultimate Endgame, also written by Camp, it’s not actually much of an issue. Like issue 11, it’sdone entirely in splashes/double-page spreads and the narration is poetry. For Camp, that mostly means alliteration abused absent abandon. The true purpose of this issue is to let Stipan Morian deliver 24 absolutely stunning pages. Morian drawing a version of Ragnarok is worth anyone’s time. The words are practically superfluous and I think there’s a decent chance that even Camp would agree with that sentiment.

The words and the story they tell is nothing new. From the perspective of someone who has been reading all of the Ultimate titles, it’s downright baffling by how little it matters in the larger scheme of things. But, that’s for another time. In general, it’s a fairly straight forward variation on the traditional Ragnarok story. Back in The Ultimates #11, Thor made some deals to bring this about and here it is. No surprises, no bombshells, nothing specifically noteworthy. If you’ve never encountered this story before, then I imagine it will land a lot better. It’s a story that’s been told or foretold far too many times in Thor comics over the decades, so it all feels a bit repetitive. The cycle is a big deal and the idea that this will break that cycle is meant to hit hard, yet even that’s been done before. All this issue really has going for it is Morian’s art.

You can see various elements in the art. A bit of Bisley and Vess and Kordrey and Mignola and, yes, Kirby. That final name is the one that hangs over the issue heaviest, because it’s the one that’s invoked in all but. From the heavy use of Kirby creations like Mangog and the Destroyer to the page where Thor meant to suggest Ego the Living Planet to the final page that basically calls out the first page of New Gods #1 with the line “...and there was a time when old gods died.” laid over Morian’s version of that first page. It’s a complete recreation of that page with a detail or two changed, mostly due to Morian’s difference in style to Kirby’s. The entire issue’s Ragnarok leads into that first page, which Kirby had clearly written and drawn to evoke his work at Marvel on Thor, laying plain that this was the next step beyond that work – something he’d tried to accomplish at Marvel, but they were too tied to the existing characters to want to move on.

What I’ve been struggling with is why bother turn this issue into a direct lead-in to that page. It’s a nifty callback, a fun visual homage for those that will get it... When considering it, I’m struggling to find a good reason for it. In the preceding pages, there seems to be a critique of the endless nature of these stories, which does fit with its position as the second-last issue of a series whose ending coincides with the conclusion of the Ultimate world/line in its current iteration. Given that these are variation characters whose existence bears no influence on the ongoing stories of the ‘original’ versions, there’s something hollow about the sentiment and the ending. After all, this is not the first Ultimate Universe. Perhaps, that reborn cyclical nature is what Camp is getting at, that the Maker has turned his world into something akin to the Aesir, existing in a cycle of birth, death, and rebirth...

It still doesn’t track for the Kirby homage. That was something new and different. It may have tackled some similar ideas – so did Eternals – yet each step forward was a step forward, not a repetition. At worse, they were ruminations on ideas that haunted Kirby akin to a novelist with recurring themes. At best, they were still works from the same mind. New, yes; not disconnected or unrelated. That’s where the message is muddled. This is the death of this Asgard and these gods and there’s a hope for something new springing from it... Only it’s the old.

Maybe it’s that cynical, this issue. Rather than hopeful, it points to the next logical step after this ends, which is just rebooting another Kirby concept. There was a time when that sort of message suited me. I’ve come to grips, largely, with where I’m at and all I see is someone railing against a system that they’re very much a part of. I mean, it’s still comics about Spider-Man and Captain America and Doom and Iron Man and Thor... Oh, the Thomasian in me wants to point out that this bridges the gap between the two in-continuity versions of Asgard and the Fourth World. This is the Third World, following the ongoing Second-That-Will-Not-Die and preceding the Fourth that began decades ago... What a crock.

The story of Ragnarok was always one with the rebirth after. The new out of the old. The seasons, the wheel, all of that shit. You look at it from a certain perspective and you can see these comics as the launching pad for new, interesting work from those involved reaching an even larger audience. That also rings somewhat cynical and laughable, though. I first encountered Camp and Morian in their creator-owned 20th Century Men, an audacious and stunning work of New. The new already exists and this is spinning your wheels. At least when guys like Ennis ‘slum it,’ there seems to be something worth saying. This is aimless lashing out coupled with taking the knee at the same time. Maybe I don’t understand. Maybe I’m missing something crucial, one key detail...

Damn good looking art. At least there’s that.

1 in the 6160 – Ultimate Endgame #1

[While I plan to return to the regular 6 in the 6160 series of posts, stopped dead in its tracks by the daunting task of being a critic mired in traditional western superhero comics trying to reckon with Peach Momoko’s Ultimate X-Men. So, I have retreated and returned via what would be something of a safe space for the likes of me: an event comic. Ultimate Endgame #1 dropped this week, the beginning of the end of the Ultimate Universe, the culmination of the two-year countdown initiated at the end of Ultimate Invasion #4, and Deniz Camp’s first big swing at an event comic after paving the way via The Ultimates. There will be spoilers, so, if you haven’t read the issue yet, maybe bookmark this for a later return – or even just leave it as one of your many tabs that you may or may not read before you either go on a mass-closing spree or your browser crashes and your beloved opened, unread tabs are all wiped from existence like so much a [REDACTED].]

1 – “How do you stand the disappointment?”

Let’s just jump to the end. The dome over The City has opened and our foursome of ostensible heroes (Iron Lad, Doom, America Chavez, and Spider-Man) have entered, or, rather, been sucked inside a new time bubble that contains The City anew immediately after the dome falls. Inside, The City looks like shit. A complete post-industrial nightmare of pollution. The Children attack, they’re unbeatable, until the foursome is saved by Death’s Head 22 and a cadre of Deathloks, and, then, taken back to Immortus, who is presumably Howard Stark, but may also be the evolution of Kang, who was either Howard or Tony Stark, where they’re told that finding the Maker in The City isn’t a problem, because the Maker is The City, cut to:

The central node of the City, a sickly giant tree in the centre, with the Maker’s face as the trunk.

The evolution of The City and the Maker is to become Krakoa.

If Ultimate Invasion set up the path of this Ultimate Universe under the influence of Warren Ellis, specifically Planetary, then Ultimate Endgame ends it under the influence of Jonathan Hickman. What springs to mind, specifically, is the way that this issue uses Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1 as something of a template to reference and respond to. That issue, which began an aborted run by Hickman and Esad Ribić was a genuinely exciting issue to read upon release. It felt fresh and new, and gave off the impression of everything falling apart at once.

Camp uses that idea of various locations where things fall apart in an interesting way. While the Hickman/Ribić issue centres around Nick Fury and SHIELD monitoring all of these situations, including Tony Stark getting taken out, a conflict with Asgard, the appearance of/engagement with The City, and ends with Fury staring into space, eyes wide, declaring that he doesn’t know what to do, the Camp issue approaches the chaos initially as a positive. The world is falling apart in revolution. The chaos is the unmaking of the status quo and, instead of being on the side of Fury and that status quo, we’re rooting for the downfall. It’s a clever reversal that gives the issue a different sort of tension. A hopeful one where it’s building to the moment when the dome falls and The City re-engages with the world.

In that tension is the fear that everything will go south immediately. That all hope will be lost. And that’s what happens. Everything falls apart in a similar fashion to how things go in Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1: where The City sucked in members of Fury’s team there, it sucks in our foursome here. Where death and destruction rains down on Fury’s forces there, it’s Fury that emerges from nowhere to rain down death and destruction on the Ultimates.

The prologue in Ultimate Endgame #1 where the Maker’s destruction of the Eternals is shown even relates to the opening of Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1, which shows the Maker and his batch of Children finding the spot to build The City. Before building his City in this universe, the Maker destroys and replaces another... Olympia is, after all, something of an earlier version of the Maker’s City. An eternal city populated with its superpowered children that are continually replenished upon death. Except, where Olympia is eternal stasis, The City is meant to be eternal evolution. And the Maker becoming The City (and shown as a tree in its centre) is a clear reference to Krakoa, it’s also the Maker becoming the Machine at the heart of Olympia. The Maker has now become what he destroyed and is he now facing a new version of himself...?

One of the key visual similarities that I found interesting is the way that the Children look identical in both comics. When The City reveals itself in both comics, the Children are the same bald beings with the same mechanical attachment, the same uniforms. Camp and artist Jonas Scharf could have gone in any direction with the Children. After all, the Children in Ultimate Invasion didn’t look exactly this way. Instead, they chose the visual callback of that initial encounter with The City and its Children in Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1 where the Children were similarly overwhelming to Captain Britain and his team after they’re sucked into The City.

The biggest difference is that, while I appreciate Ultimate Endgame #1 upon reflection, the experience of reading it was almost the opposite of what it was like to read Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1 when it came out. While Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1 was the beginning of something, Ultimate Endgame #1 is the ending, the one that we’ve been waiting for and anticipating for two years... and what can live up to those hopes? The experience of reading Ultimate Endgame #1 somewhat mirrors the events of it. The anticipation, the waiting, the countdown to the moment... and, then, it doesn’t go how you thought it would. Is that good? Is that bad? It’s an experience, I’d argue and one that I’m appreciating more and more...

Thorsday Thoughts – The Ultimates #11

Thor comics aren’t usually overtly political. Despite a central location being a kingdom, even when war is made, it’s usually plot-driven and divorced from broad political ideas. If anything, the focus is usually personal and through a bit of a superhero lens. If Asgard goes to war with Surtur, it’s because Surtur is an evil fire demon bent on destruction and nothing more. If the Frost Giants complain about Asgard’s foot on their necks, it’s only because they would ravage and devour Asgard if given the chance. These are mythological beings that fit into archetypes of good and evil, neat little boxes. Broadly speaking, Thor is a heroic figure, generally on the side of good where the concept of politics is boiled down to simplicities and privilege. He’s a defender, not a conqueror or coloniser, despite his followers being those things. Politics are somewhat slow and temporary for someone like Thor who views the rise and fall of empires the way we view the rise and fall of the sun. Placing Thor in an overly political context seems strange at first glance.

Then again, this isn’t a Thor comic. It’s The Ultimates.

Part of the Jonathan Hickman-led relaunch of the Ultimate Universe, the basic idea is that the Maker (Ultimate Reed Richards) remade universe 6160 in a manner to his liking, mostly by using time travel to suppress the Age of Marvels. Now, after he was trapped in the City for two years, Tony Stark and Doom (that world’s Reed Richards) have gathered a group of superpowered insurgents to prepare for the day when the City opens again, to take down the Maker. During this preparation, they’ve been trying to right the wrongs of the Maker, one of which was freeing Thor from the dungeons of Asgard where the king, Loki, had put him, marking him a traitor. In The Ultimates #11, Thor and Sif (his former jailer) return to Asgard to end Loki’s reign, the issue told via splash pages and a long poem.

Deniz Camp has written The Ultimates less as a superhero team and more as an activist cell. It’s been rare for the full group to appear in an issue, shifting its central focus each month to build a tapestry of the group’s activities and the world around them. He’s also done his best to treat each issue as its own unity of storytelling, attempting different formalist experiments, like the fourth issue telling four different narratives across every page with a panel on each page dedicated to each. As an issue of The Ultimates, this fits structurally and narratively with its focus on only Thor and Sif (with appearances by Stark and Doom at the very end) and told in a unique, specific manner. Thematically, its exploration of a fascist state, the means of oppression, and the ways in which the oppressed learn to live with it, afraid to fight back for fear that things will get worse, is very much in line with rest of the series, which has been a comic about resistance against tyrannical rule, both overt and covert.

It also features the book’s regular artist, Juan Frigeri, and, I imagine, he was pretty pumped to have an issue of splash pages where he can channel everything into single issues that allow his detailed line work to shine. It’s a different sort of storytelling, one that actually accomplishes that rare feat that everyone talks about as the standard for quality visual storytelling: the ability to follow the story without the words. Told through a series of single images, each representing a chunk of time or a moment, Frigeri manages to nail it page after page. Together with Camp’s poem, the effect is more like a children’s book than a regular comic. Fitting for the mythological characters featured. Despite its connection to the larger world, this issue is almost a fable of fascism and resistance, of disruption and endurance. Characters are more impressions and single images than flesh out, and the story is dead simple and straight forward: Thor and Sif arrive, obtain the means to move about the Realms in secret, we’re told of the status quo, they try to enlist help and meet with scared apathy, they begin to strike, the ruling class hits back against the citizenry, and things head towards open conflict. The message is dressed up with poetic language, yet is very directly put:

You don’t make concessions

To autocrats and their oppressions

You don’t make deals

With tyrants

You make war!

The closest Thor comic that comes to mind is the Robert Rodi/Simone Bianchi Thor: For Asgard six-issue series. Also not taking place in the regular Marvel Universe, For Asgard tells of a time where Thor is king of Asgard and grows slowly more tyrannical with time, making choices that seem good for Asgard but incorrect morally. The big reveal at the end of the first issue is that he can no longer lift Mjolnir. As the story progresses, dissent is sown by unknown provocateurs and acts of sabotage are committed against Asgard, all while the younger generation pushes back against tradition. It seems like this is the slow death of a once-great kingdom until Thor finds a way to reclaim his former worthiness. By the end of the final issue, it’s clear that the story was meant to continue (but never did) and is only the first step in how to heal a nation that has begun to erode and die. (The issue also recalls the Loki mini-series also written by Rodi, but drawn Esad Ribić where Loki finally conquers Asgard and finds the throne not as comfortable as he always dreamed, though that is much more of a character-driven story with any politics merely there to serve Loki’s story.)

During Matt Fraction’s run on Thor, he changed the ruling structure of Asgard, first with the triumvirate All-Mothers taking over for Odin and, eventually, the Congress of Worlds, a democratic government made up of representatives of the various Realms. Despite these changes, there was little substantive longterm impact on Asgard. As is the usual way with superhero comicbooks, time passed and things reverted back to tradition. Thor comicbooks aren’t usually political.

The Asgard presented in The Ultimates #11 is one shaped to suit its thematic purposes. Camp twists known elements in the ways needed to tell his story. The largest change is to the Vanir, normally depicted as a race more or less the same as the Aesir. Here, they become something akin to the Fae and fill the role of those that are comfortable enough under the oppressive rule, afraid to lose what little they have by fighting for more. Of course, when Loki and the Frost Giants look to put the screws to the populace following Thor and Sif’s first attack, the Vanir are among the first group to have their rights limited. It’s an interesting play on the traditional tensions between the Aesir and Vanir in the comics where war between the two was settled via Frigga marrying Odin, and the Aesir ruled over the Vanir in a benevolent-yet-chaffing manner. The echoing of that arrangement implicitly calls into question the justness of Odin’s reign. While more benevolent and fair than Loki, the line between monarch and tyrant is a thin one.

That there’s no resolution in this issue is the boldest choice. A morality play such as this would seemingly be best served with a clear ending: the downfall of the tyrant king. Instead, the big payoff is the message from above about resisting, not appeasing, tyrants. It’s not the actual final word of the Thor portion of the issue. While the war against Loki is implied at the end, so too is one Thor’s methods: a deal with Surtur where he enlists the fire demon to “Burn it all down.” Again, Camp uses previous stories and conventions to imply action. There have been countless comics where Surtur attempts to bring about Asgard’s destruction and Ragnarok, and it’s even shown up in a movie (you may have seen it). While a lot of the story doesn’t actually rely on regular Thor continuity, that moment is surprising in how it references such a well-known Thor trope. It almost feels out of place in an issue that seeks to demonstrate just how different this Asgard is from the one we know in service of its message. And that’s where I land with this issue, taken from the viewpoint of a Thor-focused reader: it uses the characters and setting in a manner that fits the message it wishes to convey.

In many ways, this could have been a story about Hercules and Olympus, or Namor and Atlantis, or Black Panther and Wakanda. Pick a ‘country’ in the Marvel Universe and a similar issue could be told. The poem approach seems to suit Asgard conceptually and the idea of finally seeing through an Asgard under Loki’s rule is appealing. Thor as an insurgent guerrilla fighter has an odd charm as well. These characters work well as simple metaphors for this message of resistance and no appeasement, partly because of the contrast with the Asgard that we know. And it’s incredibly relevant for the current times, another rarity of Thor comics.